


Shining Palm

by lemonpie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Dragon Riders, F/F, M/M, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Powerful Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 20:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonpie/pseuds/lemonpie
Summary: When Harry was seven years old, he found a large, pretty rock that he took home. Somehow, his aunt didn't see it, and he kept it in his cupboard.It hatches three days later.Four years later, he and his Heart-and-Mind-Partner are off to Hogwarts. Harry knows more magic that any of his classmates combined, thanks to him finding a journal of the Ancient Language.And this Harry, more importantly, has had a friend. And that makes him more dangerous than anyone was expecting.





	Shining Palm

**Author's Note:**

> yeet

Freak is getting thrown out again. That isn't too much of a surprise, since Dudley had gotten mud all over the newly mopped kitchen and blamed it on Freak. 

So Freak - Harry, actually - wandered down to the nearby park, where he sat on the swing for a while. 

Until something shiny caught his eye, buried in the bushes. It was green, like his eyes, and he hopped off of the swing and went to it. 

Roughly the size of Harry's forearm, it was bright emerald and had pretty veins of white running through it. It was lighter than Harry had thought it would be when he picked it up, and he took off his oversized sweatshirt and lined the bottom of his backpack with it, and set the stone down inside it. 

And he hoped with all his might that Aunt Petunia didn't notice it. 

To his eternal, unending relief, she just shoved a stale piece of bread and a cup of water at him and told him to go into his cupboard, where he took the stone out and admired it. 

It was pretty, and Harry-Freak didn't often get to look at pretty things. The surface was slightly warm to the touch, and Harry smiled softly to himself before setting the egg in the nest of blankets he called a bed and curled up beside it.

\--

Harry woke up a few days later, his small body aching from all the chores he had to do, to the sound of something scratching. He blearily rubbed his eyes, searching for his glasses, and when he shoved them onto his face, he found that the stone had cracks in it. At first, he thought that Dudley must have somehow found and broken it, but as he watched, more cracks spread out across the surface of the stone, and something inside  _squeaked_. 

His body jolted and he sat up, brushing a spider from his hair without paying attention, and watched as the stone - the egg! - hatched before his very eyes. He murmured encouragements, hoping that whatever was inside would maybe, just maybe, want to be his friend. His hopes weren't high, though. No-one wanted to be friends with Harry. 

It took what must have been hours for the thing inside the egg to break out, and when it did, Harry gasped. 

It was a dragon! 

He only knew what dragons were because of books he'd read at school, and this  _had_ to be a dragon. It was awkward, with wings that were almost twice again the length it was, no teeth, and shining green eyes.

Slowly,  _slowly_ , he reached forward and touched the dragon on the flank--

And pain laced up his arm so intensely that he passed out. 

When he woke again, the dragon was curled up on his chest with it's small snout tucked up under his chin, breathing softly. Harry hesitantly touched it again, and when no pain was forthcoming, he started to stroke the soft scales gently. His head felt weird, all cleared out, like the air after a rainstorm, and there was a strange presence just beyond his perception. Harry, curious, pushed towards it, only to realize that some sort of barrier in his mind had disappeared and he retreated.

The dragon blinked it's pretty green eyes open and snorted at him softly, bumping his chin with it's head. There was a strange, warm sensation in his head, like contentment but different somehow. 

"Is... Is that you?" He whispered, and the dragon blinked again. 

Now all he had to do was sneak the thing past his aunt. How hard could it be?

\--

The dragon had grown at an alarming rate, and now, three years and counting after Harry had found him, he was double Harry's height at the shoulder and would scare anyone away. His scales had toughened, he'd grown teeth, and now was eating four cows a day. 

About a year in, after his dragon had learnt to talk and had explained a little about what exactly he was, Harry had found a journal, battered and worn, in the forest where he kept the dragon, who had named himself "Hunter" after much back and forth with Harry. 

The journal was full of writing about something called 'the Ancient Language'. When Harry excitedly tried to do what the book said and lift a stone, he managed it, but ended up exhausted. From there, Harry became determined to learn all the Ancient Language he could. His favorite was the word 'unlock', and he used it nightly to go and visit Hunter. 

The first time they flew together, Harry's legs ended up rubbed raw and bled for days. The next time they tried, he stole some sheets from someone's washing line and shoved them into his trousers to protect himself from the rough scales on Hunter's back. 

He eventually managed to fashion a sort of makeshift saddle with several pieces of cloth, a stolen pillow, and the Ancient word 'cut'. After that, flying together was much easier, and it soon became Harry's favorite thing to do. 

But that wasn't what they were doing right then. Because right then, Harry was leaning up against Hunter's side, staring down at the letter in his hands. 

_It isn't going to bite you, Harry._

"I know that! Shut up." He grumbled, ignoring the chortling dragon behind him. "What if it's not just a prank, though?" 

_Then we'll go to the school._

"We? How are you going to not be noticed?" 

 _Don't worry, little one, I won't leave you._ Hunter nudged his human with his muzzle, and Harry wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed his forehead to the underside of his jaw. 

 'Dear Mister Potter,' Read the letter in scrawling cursive. (But of course, we all know what it says.)

"We await your owl? What the hell does that mean?" 

_I dunno. Burn it and let's go flying. I'm hungry._

_"Brisingr."_ He murmured softly and let the page go up in flames. Once the final bit of parchment had curled up from his hands, he dusted the ash off of his legs and stood up. Hunter stayed on his belly while Harry climbed up onto his back, and then settled into a crouch and launched himself up into the air.

How they hadn't been noticed, Harry would never know, but honestly, he didn't care. Not when Hunter was cutting through the air easily, rolling and swerving. He never felt more alive than he did when he was flying with Hunter and he only wished they could do it all the time.

\--

The tension in the room was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife and serve it.

Not that anyone was thinking about serving the lady stood by the living room door. The lady who was absolutely a witch. 

' _This is either real, or one very elaborate prank.'_ Harry told Hunter, feeling the wave of contented amusement come back. 

"Mr. Potter, are you paying attention?" Asked the witch-lady, and Harry nodded without really actually paying any attention to her whatsoever. 

Something something wizard something. Visting a diagonally, whatever that meant, something about a leaking cauldron (she should get that checked out) and something else about funding. 

Man, this woman had a lot to say. Good thing Harry wasn't listening. 

She eventually prompted Harry to come with her, and he shook himself from his thoughts and stood up, waving goodbye to his white-faced relatives. 

Ah. Fear. What a disgusting response to anything. Harry hates it.

The woman seems nice enough, if a little stiff and strict. Harry doesn't really mind, and even has a little skip in his step as he walks along beside her. 

Good things, however, don't last. She instructs him to take hold of her arm, which he does readily, only to be spun through a tube a few inches too small. And more importantly, dragged away from Hunter unexpectedly. 

Once he was dropped, he collapsed to the ground, clutching his head, and screamed.


End file.
